


Matter of Trust

by bugmancer



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Just Sex, M/M, lots of descriptive sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:22:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7019608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugmancer/pseuds/bugmancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deadpool and Spider-man play tag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matter of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> There was no point for this, really. xD
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments are welcome. <3  
> I'm gonna try bottom!Wade next time...

"Tag!" Something smacks the back of Peter's head, making him scream and fall off of the ledge he was perching on. Plummeting towards the street, he hears someone holler "You're it!" behind him before he can web out of danger and onto the building across the street.

Whipping his head around, Peter grimaces as Deadpool's familiar red figure waves at him gleefully across the street before darting off across the rooftops. "Wade!" He shouts, annoyed. When did he get here? A couple of swings and he's already caught up to the guy. Peter keeps a safe distance, though, unless Deadpool decides to pull out a bazooka, Harley Quinn style. "Maybe next time you're in town you might want to _cordially_ invite me to a game of tag instead of just showing up unannounced as you please."

Not stopping to catch his breath, Wade huffs "You know, Spidey. When exactly did you get to know my full name when I've never even seen your face before? How is _that_ fair?"

"You're in the Yellow Pages." Peter shrugs as best as he can with his arms hauling him around by web.

"Knew I shouldn't have ran that add in Queens." Wade grumbles loudly to himself, hopping over an alleyway with little ease and a lot of panting. "What do you say we make our game of tag high-stakes, huh? If you win you get to unmask me. If _I_ win, I get to unmask you!"

"I already know what you look like, Wade." Peter scoffs, "You're it!" Peter finally shoots a web at Wade, the force of it knocking him off balance and sends him teetering dumbly to an abrupt stop. It seems they had made it to the middle of the city where the buildings didn't cast much light on anything below a certain range, and the rooftops were darkened by the bright lights of the streets and walkways.

"Hey! Webs don't count!" Wade complains bitterly as Peter webs him a second time and begins yanking him by a literal thread towards his proximity.

"Then get-" Peter yanks but Deadpool doesn't give the first time, pulling on the other end of the web strand himself. "Over- here!" With a final yank, Deadpool gives and trips forward, almost falling flat on his face if not for catching his footing last second. Running with his attempt to balance himself, Wade begins charging straight at Peter, who in turn meekly begins to flee. He would have escaped above and over Wade's head, but the red man quickly unsheathes a katana and severs the thread Peter was about to get away on. The two collide with an "oof" and soon are untangling from a _convenient_ sticky mess that Wade caused when he _conveniently_ fell with a finger aimed directly at the pulse-point trigger of Spider-man's web shooters.

Finally parted, the two of them awkwardly attempt to catch their breath while brushing webbing off.

Deciding he was annoyed, Peter reaches for Wade's collar, losing his balance when the taller man steps swiftly past him and grabs his wrist on the way, slipping one of his shooters off. Buzzing into a panic, Peter turns, attempting to web with his remaining wrist, but somehow Deadpool is faster. He webs Peter's remaining shooter, wrist and all, to the brick of the building close behind him. Before he can even panic, Peter's empty wrist also gets trapped to the wall, leaving him wide open for a frontal assault.

As Deadpool calmly saunters closer to him whistling a happy tune, Peter attempts to grab his neck with both legs. In an instant, Deadpool grabs for the knife in his boot and wedges an arm between the closing vice of Peter's legs, angling the blade so that it cuts a clean strip on the inside of his thigh, drawing a strand of blood on Peter's exposed skin. Not wanting to lose his junk, Peter falters...slowly untangling his legs and placing his feet back on the ground. Victorious, Deadpool places a hand on his shoulder, leaning in and juggling the knife in his other.

"Seems like I've got you, Spidey. Betcha didn't count on me getting you in a corner...really should wear your webs beneath your sleeves, my man." Peter glares, grumbling insults under his breath. Shying away from Wade as the older man reaches from him, Peter ducks every attempt to get at the edge of his collar until Deadpool takes him fully around his neck with a firm, large grip. His head had not stopped buzzing since Wade arrived, but now it had his heart racing in his ear; the skin beneath Wade's hold felt increasingly warm.

Wade begins peeling his mask off, but Peter does not let it happen without a struggle. Just before it made it past his nose, Peter wiggles his armed wrist free just to where he can shoot a web at himself, crying out lamely when it smacks into his face. Recoiling, Deadpool lets out a laugh, beady white eyes widening with surprise. "You really don't want me to know!"

"No shit." Peter cuts him off barely, the side of his mouth a little obscured by the splotch of webbing holding the edge of his mask onto his face.

"Alright, I get it…" Wade reaches for the web on Peter's face, giving him a reassuring gesture when he flinches away cautiously, "Easy, I'm not gonna look." Peter readies his wrist again just in case but allows Wade to pull the strands off of his face. He doesn't pull the mask back down over Peter's mouth, but he doesn't bother it either. "Since I won, and...you don't want me to see the undoubtedly cute face hiding under that mask...I guess you'll have to compensate me Mr. Man. Seeing as how you know my super-secret identity and all." Deadpool leans back in, uncomfortably close. The section of his mask that covers his mouth tents as he puckers his lips, pecking Peter on his before he can even follow what's going on. Laughing, Deadpool turns away from Peter and crouches down, murmuring something excitedly to himself. Was he inner-monologuing?

"Aurgh," Peter cocks his head, beyond confused now, "what did you do that for?"

"Why?" Deadpool returns, placing both of his hands against the wall on either side of Peter's body and closing in around his personal space. Instinctually, Peter backs away, pressing into the wall until he feels small. "Did you want me to keep going?"

"Uhm," Peter swallows hard without meaning to, "Not exactly.."

Deadpool hums to himself affirmatively before backing away, "Guess I'll help you out of these webs, then." Something feels buzzy about his tone and Peter only catches the glint of the blade Wade was still holding before a sting across his chest has him crying out, more annoyed than in pain.

"What the hell, Wade?!" Glancing down at himself, Peter sees that Deadpool had "accidentally" cut the front of his costume. The fabric pulled away as Peter's body moved, revealing a long gash that split the sensitive skin of the areola of his left nipple in its path. It wasn't deep, but where the air touched the open skin stung a little. "Did you cut me?"

"Did I? Sorry about that." Wade's stutters a nervous laugh but his voice is deadpan without even a note of remorse. "Butterfingers."

The chorus of buzzing in Peter's head started to overwhelm him, a crack forming in his usual impenetrable sarcastic defense. Nothing was really funny about this. "You know, if there was something weird you needed to get out of your system, it might be easier just to ask me instead of whatever- w-what are you…" There was no point in finishing the question since Deadpool clearly had no intention of answering him. The man in question had leaned down to the fresh opening in Peter's suit and brushed a gloved fingertip gently along the skin below the cut that marred the skin there. The touch smeared some of the blood slowly pooling on the edge of the wound, bringing a cold sensation to Peter's skin where Wade dragged it.

Stilled by the utter weirdness that was happening, Peter lets out a little sound of surprise when Wade slides his fingers down the bottom edge of the cut in his suit, worn glove dragging on the bud of his nipple.

"I think I might forget my fascination with removing my favorite hero's mask if he lets me remove other parts of his suit instead." Deadpool's voice is suddenly really close and really unsettling.

"Woah, woah, woah," Peter shakes his head, "Is this- are you? Making a pass at me right now?"

"It's perfectly natural if you find that you want me right now, Spidey. I want you, too."

"Oh, gross," Peter grimaces, "Please don't ever say that again. And please stop harassing me and cut me out of these so we can pretend this never happened. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Nu-uh," Deadpool grabs Peter by his chin, the threat of violence coiled in his grip rubbing Peter in a very uncomforting way. The constant static of his spider-sense was merely background noise at this point. "Unless you want to show me the goods."

"I'm not…! Doing whatever it is you think is about to happen! Or you unmask me? That's not even fair, and I certainly never agreed to your stupid game."

"There's not really any grounds for negotiation here, Spidey." Deadpool releases Peter when he struggles, this time, crossing his arms in a show of defiance, the knife lazily tucked between his fingers like a cigarette.

"Well, Wilson." Peter lays on the disappointment, hoping his reputation would win him some leeway. "Guess I never knew you to be capable of doing something like this."

"Yeah," Deadpool's normal ditzy tone had dropped entirely, replaced by a hardened monotone that Peter wasn't at all used to dealing with. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Spider."

A knot wound its way into Peter's gut. He wasn't afraid of Deadpool by any means, but this was an incredibly unnerving predicament. The guy may have a healing factor, but he didn't have Peter's strength or speed if push came to shove. Peter just wasn't fond of shoving first. "Fine. What do you want, then?"

"Ohoh, really?" Wade's chipper, comical tone had returned, just like that. "Again, you surprise me." Peter begins to wonder which version of Wade was sincere. The friendly, attention-starved Wade that craved Peter's acceptance as Spider-man. Or the cold, methodical one that would hold Peter hostage over his anonymity for some stupid game they started playing on a whim. "Just one thing from you Spidey. A kiss."

"Didn't you get one already?" Peter relaxes; he had expected worse. He'd given plenty of people kisses before. He'd received quite a few as well...

"Another, then. Lips to…lips.." Wade puckers his mouth under the mask again before pulling it up to his nose. Wade's skin was scarred, as Peter knew and expected, but he could hardly tell the difference in the low light. If Deadpool wanted to play, Peter could play, too.

"Hm. I _guess_ that's okay with me." Peter hangs on his words thoughtfully, trying to poke at Wade's insecurities. It works because Wade is frowning when he leans in, a stark contrast to Peter's convincing show of disdain.

Wade is surprisingly gentle when he grabs both of Peter's cheeks and presses their mouths together in a childish manner. Like he was trying to blow air into Peter as if he were a balloon. Peter finds the comparison humorous and even goes along with it enthusiastically until the kiss drags on for more than two seconds. Peter counts to 10 before he starts to grow concerned. Sighing through his nose, Peter slumps his shoulders in fatigue.

Just when he lets his guard down, Deadpool's hands loosen their hold and Peter's jaw slacks naturally on its own. A slick tongue pressed hungrily past his oblivious lips and his cries of defiance are lost in Wade's cavernous, never-ending mouth. Truthfully, Peter had anticipated such a move but wasn't sure what Wade's was planning after he got that far. He had also admittedly never kissed another man to his most recent knowledge. Wade tasted like "smoked" stuff smelled.

Pulling at the webs restraining him in frustration, Peter finds that they had been weakening all of this time. Letting Wade kiss him to stall for time, Peter finds it hard to remain on task with the bigger man's tongue and lips pulling and sucking at his own. Although nothing about it was horrifying, really. It was just...distracting. Trying not to be seduced by the fact he hadn't been laid in quite awhile, Peter professionally reciprocates the kissing. As soon as he was free,however; he was going to make Wilson eat all of his teeth.

Wade finally lets up for air, giving Peter space to catch his breath before bringing his knife beneath the man's chin. Peter's muscles tighten with alarm, but he tries not to move at all while Wade runs the flat side along his bare jaw.

"Anyone ever tell you your lips are really hot when they're smooched, Spidey? I mean...I bet other parts of you are as well. If I could see them, I guess," Deadpool smiles before licking his lips, breathing a little unsteadily. Peter doesn't answer, too focused on the tip of Wade's blade to really even hear what he was saying. Wade travels the point along one of the lines on Peter's suit and nicks the fabric; creating another tear that exposes a section of the collar bone underneath Wade leans in and runs his tongue between the new tear, following with his mouth to suck at Peter's skin. That was very unexpected. Peter's face burns at hearing himself begrudgingly respond with a pathetic squeak; Deadpool's mouth travels towards his adam's apple, bunching up the edge of the tear in the costume along the way.

Wade hums pleasantly against Peter's throat, his knife hand leaving to rest against the wall. Peter relaxes a little knowing it's not close to him anymore, but still treads carefully. "Gonna have to bill you for the suit repair, right? You usually ruin your partner's clothes on the first date?"

A muffled noise of laughter tickles his neck. "This is a date now?" Wow, what was he supposed to be thinking about again?

Peter tries to think of more distracting thoughts to keep himself from responding too much to Wade's ministrations, despite really needing to rehash his ideas on how to get out of the situation instead. Like the time, he ran out of web and fell into a dumpster. Or the time his spider-sense confused him into trying to help a lady who was just having kinky sex with her boyfriend in a car pulled up in a back alleyway. That had been awkward. Just like this should be, but... Peter was continuously losing his train of thought to his life's usual stark lack of physical intimacy. Somehow, he realized, that was a frequently ticketed excuse for most of the poor choices he made. Ones that then only caused him more problems. This was a blatant problem. With flashing signs and a big bow of yellow crime scene tape sitting pretty on it.

Wade's free hand, the one not holding the knife, nudges Peter further into the wall by his hip...an area suspiciously close to his crotch. In the spandex, he was vulnerable to sensory stimulation...Deadpool's mischievous fingers were no exception. A familiar tingle prickles up his lower belly as Wade's hand fidgets at his hip - the fantasy of what he intended to do with it was rousing more than just Peter's suspicion.

Trying to shake out of his growing daze, Peter tests the restraints again, panicked to see that they're nearly eroded all of the way. He was running out of time to get out of this corner exactly as he planned. He'd have to improvise. He could be thinking of an alternative route, but Deadpool steals his attention again by closing in further around him, their chests brushing.

Deadpool was pretty big usually, but closer like this he felt only bigger. Peter has to stop himself from forcing a distance between them and pretends his hands are still restrained as Deadpool invades his mouth again, a slight friction pulling at him as the fabric of their costumes begin to drag against each other. Peter was starting to contemplate fleeing in shame and confusion. Nothing was even holding him there aside from the risk of Wade's knife and- well, someone had to keep an eye on him. Better he was here than piling bodies in Spider-man's streets.

"Spidey," Wade breaks to mutter to him before devouring his mouth again. His kisses were getting sloppier. "You goin' somewhere?"

Peter offers a confused groan before Deadpool has turned his head to look at Peter's hands. The webs were gone, but Peter had stuck in place with his palms to hold the facade. "No?" His earnest answer is rewarded with a dull _clink_ of Wade tossing his knife away into the dark.

Wade's now-free hand is on him instantly, hot and heavy and cupping his semi through the front of his suit, muttering in shallow breaths: "Good." Peter agrees, although for entirely different reasons. He plants his heels against the wall...hating that his toes are curling on their own. What was the plan now? He couldn't think...

The hand on his dick travels lower, cupping his balls a little too carelessly. The sudden roughness startles him into grabbing onto one of Wade's shoulders."Woah, e-easy!" Peter doesn't get a chance to get Wade in check before the guy drops to his knees and mouths wetly at his, rather confusing and bewildering, boner.

"Shit," Peter perks up to Wade's voice, squirming nervously. "I shouldn't have gotten rid of that knife yet." Wade pulls another from somewhere on his body and pulls the sweat-sticky fabric of Peter's crotch up before clearing a direct path to his obscured genitals.

"Wade!" Peter instantly scolds him, renewed worry over about how he was supposed to get home with Spider-man's dick flopping about for all of Queens to see.

Wade laughs to himself, tossing the knife away without a care and wrapping his hand around Peter's piqued erection. "Ah, whatever. I'll help you get home later." Peter is about to complain again when Wade takes the head of his dick into his mouth, tongue silencing him with one tempering lick.

"Okay. This is happening." Peter stutters, trying not to stare as Wade takes him all the way to the base. His hands gradually rest tentatively on Wade's shoulders, resisting the urge to thrust into the man's...suspiciously skilled mouth. Unable to think of anything else to say, while simultaneously unable to resist shutting up for his own good, Peter asks the only thing he can think to ask: "You've done this before?", his voice breaking amidst his unsteady breathing.

Wade pulls off with a loud slurping sound that grosses Peter out as much as it turns him on. Or is he grossed out because it turns him on? He can't tell anymore. "I don't think you want me to answer that," Wade explains quickly before swallowing Peter back down again. At least his big mouth was good at something. Peter probably couldn't speak to that, though. Well he _could_ , actually. That was the problem with his analogy. He was such a hypocrite.

"Oh, jeez," dropping his head back in despair, Peter does allow his hips to rock forward, slowly meeting Deadpool's steady pace as he sucks him down and back again. His body was turning so feverish, the skin exposed by the tears in his costume felt cold in comparison. And Wade's mouth was so hot and slick and comfortable, ugh. Peter struggled to think of things to say so that he didn't seem too eager to participate in all of this...but in reality, he was more than willing at this point. Deadpool was already getting more than he had asked for. But then again...so was he. It's hard for Peter to fully wrap his head around what is happening... "Did you really go through this much trouble just to suck my dick?"

Wade pauses momentarily to pull off with a frown, "What would you have done if I just asked?" Wade changes his angle, pressing Peter's cock up with his hand to lick down the bottom of it, going lower and lower until he could get his mouth on Peter's balls as well. The position forced the receiving man to shift his legs wider, going up onto the balls of his feet a little. Peter could only cry out softly.

It's when Peter felt a sly slide of Wade's fingertips inching up his asscrack and a shrill screaming of his spider-sense that he was reminded that boundaries do indeed exist with people you barely know. Hero-worship aside. Springing away from Deadpool, who falls forward and barely catches himself on his hands, Peter backtracks up the wall he had been pinned to earlier, snatching the web-shooter Wade had carelessly abandoned on the floor earlier along the way.

"Woah, buddy! I may be desperate but I'm not that desperate." Peter taunts, feeling very cold and vulnerable in his torn up suit. He was suddenly dying to be bathed.

"Spidey, you ruined it!" Wade dramatically wails while attempting to catch his breath, still. "It was gonna be so good!"

"Yeah, well. I'm not exactly ready to have my man-cherry popped just yet. Or- ever, actually." Peter did enjoy the blowjob, though. Fixing his shooters straight and pulling his mask down all of the way, Peter gives an awkward wave to Deadpool before setting off on a quick swing over his head. "See you around, Pool- mmph!"

Strong arms latched around Peter's body before he could leave, just like a cat dragging a bird from flight, he hits the rooftop hard, face first, the gravel and rough concrete scraping through the various holes of his suit. Wade had nabbed him by his thighs, collapsing with Peter and landing on top of him. "Augh, cut it out already!" Peter is rightly pissed and even more so when his voice fails to match his exact level of outrage and breaks a little. "You! Can't you leave me alone for more than-" Peter is cut off by his lack of air, so he flails painfully as Wade attempts to hold him down with his sheer body mass. "I really should have just let you unmask me." Peter grouses as Wade's infuriating boner presses into his ass.

Wade holds Peter's thighs between his own and runs a soothing palm over his scraped body parts as if checking to see if he were still in one piece. "Sorry," he offers an apologetic murmur into Peter's ear that makes him wince a little, "I was expecting you to pull me along. Wasn't trying to pull you down. But this works too, I guess. You're not broken anywhere?"

Peter sighs before attempting to calm himself down a little, How did he even think to ask such a thing after being the exact reason Peter was in this mess to begin with? "I'm fine…" He snaps, venom lacing his voice. Not literally or that would be terrifying on a number of levels.

"Spidey," Wade's hands return to his ass, squeezing it affectionately. His tone is affectionate, too."Let me make it up to you~" Peter gets some kind of chill up his spine. Relief or fear. Who could tell? He decides not to respond verbally, still too upset to acknowledge Deadpool's existence without wanting to bundle him up in a little spider web-cocoon, hang him over the Brooklyn Bridge, and use him like a yo-yo. Instead, he just gives Wade a burning glare cast over his shoulder. His dick had better be getting wet pretty soon. Or else.

"Alright, Wade," Peter groans, at himself, mostly...the astronomical consequences of his choices seem far less important than making himself feel better in this moment. Another popular excuse of his."Make it up to me."

Wade smirks at him a little before glancing down at Peter's ass; his hands beginning to venture up the lean dip of Peter's back. "Atta boy." He coos, rubbing deep, soothing waves with his thumbs only. Honestly, it felt incredible. Peter's tension lets up a bit, enough for him to get comfortable with laying on his tummy as is. "You need a day off, my pal. Your back is _jacked_. In a kink-y way, not the muscle-y way...Wait, that's not what I meant either-" Wade presses a little rougher, unintentionally forcing a little sound out of Peter's throat.

"I know what you meant," Peter reassures him sternly, hoping Wade wouldn't make a deal of the noises he was letting slip. Thankfully, he doesn't; his hands are too busy rubbing circles with Peter's ass cheeks instead. It didn't feel unpleasant, but Peter definitely wasn't used to this method of...whatever this was. Spider mating ritual?

Wade's thumbs dip low enough to hook under the edge of the tear around Peter's groin, lightly tracing ticklish lines in the crease of his thighs as he pulls it up further. With a little tugging, the fabric rips a larger hole, leaving Peter trembling with a chill to his private bits."Gonna make you feel so good, Spidey," Wade mumbles under his breath, rocking his hips against Peter's ass again. The dry humping was beginning to agitate the younger man, who squirms impatiently and lies unimpressed. He could get the same satisfaction from hugging his pillow while he jacked off. Shamefully. In his room, alone.

Wade pauses to slip his gloves off, tossing them onto Peter's head when he turns to see what's taking so long. Peter grabs them and is looking them over curiously when Wade's bare hands touch his ass again. Startled by their soft and molten touch, Peter marvels silently at the fact that Wade was this determined to touch him skin-to-skin. Somehow the whole engagement felt a little more intimate this way, and suddenly Peter feels a little shy.

Regretting his earlier quick-to-flee reaction, Peter sits up on his elbows and turns to watch what Wade was doing, gloves still clutched in one hand. The least he could do is face the supposed pleasure he was about to receive head-on. It's not every day you let your #1 fanboy touch the goods. Wade notices him and gives a little smirk. "Spidey. Ever touched your butt while you were jerking one off before?"

"Wade-" Peter grumbles in warning, his short-lived moment of benign forgiveness rather brutally snuffed out in the film way.

"No, it's a genuine question!" He argues, digging around in his belt for something. He fishes out something plastic and pops the white lid of it open. Okay, that was definitely lube. Peter may not have much experience but he knew what lube was. Distracted watching Wade's hands, Peter doesn't realize that he's waiting for an answer. A long silence passes between them…

"No!" Peter finally speaks up. The off timing of his answer makes him feel incredibly awkward. It was the truth, but if it didn't seem like he was about to lie before, it did seem like he had lied now. Expecting a heartless tease from Wade, Peter is somewhat disappointed when all he does is hum affirmatively, his stupid smirk getting a little bigger. "W-what do you….touch like how? Exactly?"

Wade pulls Peter's ass cheeks apart with one hand, dripping a generous stream of lube down the exposed area with his other. Peter jolts at the cold feeling, alarms ringing in his head. He makes a show of emptying his already somewhat used bottle with one last squeeze before tossing the thing away entirely. Peter was agreeing to this less and less. The dripping tickles and he feels uncomfortably sticky. He's about to word-vomit his panic when one of Wade's hands wiggles under him and wraps around his dick. The trail of lube trickling down from his ass makes it slick as Wade starts to fondle him back to a decent hardness. "Looks like you get to find out." A sudden pressure sliding against his asshole has Peter jolting with a cry of surprise. Wade makes a sound like he's incredibly satisfied with himself. "You should relax, Spidey. I can't get in if you don't."

Peter is entirely at a loss of what to do, never imagining he would ever be in a situation like this. Voice wobbling in his throat, Peter peels the edge of his mask back up and bleats, "Relax?! What are you doing? Augh-"

Wade presses his finger down, testing the ring of muscles that was keeping him out of Peter, literally. He begins rubbing along the ring in circles, easing up to a more gentle pressure. "Shhh, calm down. If you struggle, it won't go in."

" _What_ won't go in?" Peter begs dramatically, "I thought you said this would be fun!" Peter's back straightens like a board and then arches upwards with the sheer force of the sense shrieking in his head the moment Wade gets the tip of his finger inside. The lube guides him in further rather easily, tingling all of Peter's lower body in waves. His previous fits of panic leave him in a soft moan- the new sensation mixing with the pleasure of Wade stirring his dick back to attention.

"Yeah, there we go," Wade leans closer to him, resting his chin on Peter's shoulder to speak into his ear in low, frisky murmurs. "Feels good doesn't it?"

It felt more than good...how had he never thought to do this himself before? Ever?! Peter was a little disappointed in his own intelligence. Wade's finger curls into him deeper, stretching him on like a glove to the very base of it. He brushes something sensitive on his way out that melts the previous rigidity from Peter's frame. "Woah, I..." Unable to word himself with the sudden mess of his brain, Peter only pants and gasps as Wade twists his digit into new positions, gradually sliding it in and out at a faster rate. Just when Peter feels like he can comment on the lewd nature of this discovery, he remembers that Wade is jerking him off as well and the shrill ring in his head quiets to a pleasant buzz.

"Drink it in, buddy." Wade comments, nudging a second finger in along the first. "And tell me if...if it's ever too much." The implication of pain draws Peter back out of the experience for a moment, leaving him with a ton of questions.

Wade gets his second finger half-way sheathed when Peter understands why it might hurt him to take more. There's a kind of dull sting at the stretch, but it's only a little uncomfortable if anything. "You're not gonna break me, Wade."

"Only one way to find out, I suppose." He mocks, making Peter turn his head to frown. "I'm kidding." Wade chuckles and pats Peter's shoulder comfortingly. "I just want you to feel good. You feel good, right?" Peter's skin crawls with the tenor Wade's voice. He tucks his face to avoid the heat that flushed his cheeks. Why did he say things like that so easily? A breathy silence falls between them until Wade begins testing a third finger. Was he supposed to answer? Should he answer? Peter squirms as Wade brushes the spot in him again, his trail of thought lost. "Spidey~ you're so cute~" Wade coos into Peter's ear, mewling when he rubs his horribly ignored hard-on into Peter's ass. "I could loosen you up some more, but...I'm really dying here. I think I'm gonna blow." Peter groans and instinctually spreads his legs wider when Wade let's go of his dick and grabs his hips to pull them closer. His head was spinning, unable to really process what Wade was getting at with all of the chatter. "Can I put it in- can I? I'm gonna put it in…"

"W-wait-" Peter doesn't know why he immediately thinks to slow Wade down, but everything is going a little fast, maybe. Wade does stop for a second, still wringing Peter's ass with two fingers, but when Peter doesn't say anything else, he keeps going. Peter hears Deadpool's belt, a little _zip_ , and feels a hot length press against the cleft of his ass. Much bigger than he was expecting, honestly. Panicked, Peter shifts his position off the ground so he can turn and grab one of Wade's arms. The action was to control Wade, but he must have misunderstood. Or doesn't care, because he only moans deep in his throat and rocks into Peter's body eagerly. Off balance from the sudden humping, Peter's hand smacks at the ground to steady himself, allowing Wade to lean over him snugly.

"You're smothering me-" Peter warns, the threat in his voice ringing hollow. One of Wade's arms comes around his waist, heavy hand traveling up the front of his chest.

"It's what I do," Wade gloats, his dick rock _fucking solid_ on the back of Peter's thighs. "Don't hold your breath, okay?" He chimes harmlessly as he pulls away and pumps his erection a few times before testing two fingertips in Peter's ass one more time.

Peter gasps when he feels Wade's head poking him, his body trembling in anticipation...and probably fear, too. He was surprised he had made it this long without exploding from his anxiety. Wincing, Peter immediately feels the stretch of Wade trying to put it in. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ How was that supposed to fit?! Oh right, it wasn't. "W-wade...it hurts-" The lack of lube on Wade's dick was definitely giving a lot of resistance, but Peter was still ridiculously slippery. It was uncomfortable but that it was painful was just a lie. He'd been stabbed, beaten, and near exploded on many occasions. This was hardly anything. Peter just couldn't rectify what was happening with reality, even this far along.

He was far enough in that Wade could go hands-free to comfort Peter with gentle rubs under his shoulder blades. "Just relax, Spidey, you'll-"

"Your dick is literally in my ass!" Peter's voice cracks with the sudden volume, the sound bouncing off of the buildings around them. Stupid idea, he realizes too late. The last thing he needed was a civilian catching him with Deadpool, fucking on a roof, no less. The probability of being seen was low this late at night, but it could not be said who would be looking out of their apartment window by chance.

" _Shit_ shhhh," Wade leans further over Peter's back, fitting to the slender line of his body. Kissing at where Peter's ear was under the mask, Wade shushes him softly, hands sliding around his hips to hold him steady. He pushes in further with a grunt-y edge to his voice, "You're doing great. Shhh-" Peter growls, frustrated that Wade keeps going, but taking it in stride. One last push, it seems, and Wade has made it all the way in. "You okay?" Peter doesn't answer, panting breathlessly. "You're okay." Wade pulls out by a tiny inch and nudges back in, letting Peter get used to him.

"Ugh-" Peter isn't sure how to feel, although he does physically feel pretty full. "This is awful."

Wade chuckles at him warmly, hands smoothing over his lower back. "Like you just stuffed yourself on thanksgiving turkey? Only at first, I promise." One of Wade's hands returns to stroking Peter waning erection, hips rutting faintly.

"Please don't compare this to turkey. I can never have a normal thanksgiving ever again after this." Slightly renewed, Peter raises himself on one palm, following Wade's hand with the other. He takes a deep breath, relaxing his muscles as best he can. It paid to be flexible.

"Sorry." Wade giggles, sighing when Peter stares at him over his shoulder. " _God_ this is so hot." He pines like a valley girl as he rocks his hips impatiently. "I'm gonna move, Spidey-"

Peter doesn't try to stop him, just tries to focus on jerking himself in a way that matches the occasional sliver of pleasure from Wade's thrusting. It felt just as good as before only tighter. But anything he was doing more work than Wade was at this point.

The older man is loud enough to cover Peter's occasional moan, but they're both still under the restraints of being noticed. Once Wade picks up pace, the pressure in Peter's lower stomach lessens to a degree he can almost enjoy. He's beginning to think he can't get off on this kind of thing after all when Wade grinds his hips at an angle that has him jolting back to attention.

" _There_ right?" Wade asks while repeating the action. Peter thinks he should probably answer this time, but he almost misses his chance.

"Yeah," He breathes, his vision swimming with little stars. Wade makes an excited noise, grabbing Peter roughly from behind. He closes the other man's arms in his own, hunching his back while he pulls Peter up onto his knees. The sudden depth feels tight again, but then Wade is thrusting, smacking into the "spot" eagerly. Feeling smothered again, Peter briefly struggles to gain his space before the sensations start to melt his composure once more. Gritting his teeth, he vainly tries to keep his voice from spilling out. Wade squeezes him like a vice, his well-built muscles creating a firm prison from which Peter cannot bring himself to break from. Whatever he says next is lost in a confusion of moans and pants.

"You like it, Spidey?" Wade asks between thrusts in short little breaths. Then, to himself, he hisses " _Fuck_."

Peter suddenly catches himself falling forwards, back onto the roof's tile. Wade follows behind him, leaning tiredly against his frame, giving a few labored thrusts before stilling ominously. Peter knew what that means. He feels it, too. Deadpool had only been inside of him for 5 minutes at best and he'd already cum. Peter finds himself laughing between gulps of air.

"Guess you never promised anyone a stamina factor, huh?" His voice is still breaking, but this time, it's excusable.

"Shut up-" Wade's chest inhales and exhales softly at Peter's back. There's nothing but affection in his voice. It's almost too much. "Just give me a minute-"

"I got it," Peter reassures him, patiently reaching to finish himself off.

"No-" Wade slaps his hand away and begins hoisting him by the waist. Wade slumps back with an "oof", effortlessly taking Peter into his lap. Inside, Wade's dick is still a stiffy at best, giving a little jump as Peter sinks down on top of it.

"This...this is good, too." Peter sighs, slightly flushed when Wade spreads his legs and reaches between them, fondling his bits with an attentive hand, not in a rush to get him off just yet. Wade gently touches where they are connected, rubbing soft circles into Peter's hips as he begins rocking on his own. With a little help, the two are back to a steady rhythm, Wade hard as a rock again. Peter is a little more eager to participate, having delayed his release long enough. Wade seems to agree, obediently hitting the prostate and rubbing Peter out until he's almost raw.

Peter gets to moving on his own almost entirely, and Wade busies his hands pinching and rubbing all of Peter's body. He runs a few fingers through Peter's pubes, petting them flat. Traces his fingertips across the earlier rips on Peter's chest, thumbs pressing along the dips of his muscles. Everything Deadpool does is a tease but a treat at the same time. No one would touch Peter Parker like this. But then again, he wasn't even that to Wade.

Relishing at the feeling of Wade's tongue on the back of his neck, Peter allows himself to get too comfortable… There's a glint in the darkness, and a knife pressed to Peter's sternum, nicking at the edge of a tear to create another. Peter was enjoying himself so much he forgot his spider sense existed. A shrill buzz splits his head and he groans, but so does Deadpool...which catches his attention.

"Wow, _spidey_ -senses?" Wade sounds fascinated but it takes a minute for Peter to register that Wade is feeling the abnormal tension and shiver of Peter's body around his dick. Finally, they're doing more than just reminding Peter of the constant mortal danger he's seemingly always in. Wade seems encouraged by the new sensation and traces his new knife across one of Peter's nipples with the flat side. The cold sting finally sends Peter over the edge.

Leaning back into Wade's body, Peter cums with a weak cry, shuddering all over before falling into a cold, sweaty, limp mess against the larger man's chest. Wade croons to him softly, taking Peter's unguarded chin and directing him in for a sloppy kiss before cumming himself when they get too distracted battling tongues to actually continue having sex.

"Fuck you, Wade." Peter sounds utterly exhausted, whimpering when Wade lifts him off of his spent dick and sits Peter down on the cold roof between his legs. There's stuff spilling out of him but worst things have already happened to him and he leaves it without a second thought.

"Yeaaaah, might wanna put an icepack in the freezer for tomorrow morning." Wade lounges back to catch a breath, one hand supporting him, the other rubbing the back of Peter's neck affectionately. Peter begins to shiver a bit from all of the holes in his suit. "Can't believe you actually had sex with me just to avoid showing me your face, Spidey."

"It's that unbelievable? I thought I've been pretty clear about my mask policies from the beginning."

"That's true, you have. I just thought you'd trust me to know." Wade ponders, his voice slightly shrinking with insecurity. "I mean, despite the obvious reasons...you trust someone you'd fuck, right?"

"Trust is earned, not given," Peter explains gently, not shying away when Wade wraps an arm around one of his shoulders to give him some warmth.

"I see," He responds wistfully. Peter is too tired to weather more questioning, as he suspects Deadpool is as well. The two chat idly until they're ready to move. Wade helps Peter stand up and tries to pick him up when the younger man finds that he isn't very steady on his weakened legs.

"I got it, once I get in the air-" Peter waves him off, trying to walk it off like anything else. But he is as emotionally drained as he is physically for some odd reason.

"I'll take you home. Or- wherever you can get there safely. You don't have to take me there or any-"

"Okay." Peter finishes the topic before Deadpool could blabber any longer. Wade doesn't move for a second as if his .exe is loading...but then he squats down to help Peter onto his back. If Peter was successful this time around, he could trust Wade not to pry into who owned the apartment he was about to give him directions to. "Wanna use the web-shooters?"

"Hell yea, I do!"

 


End file.
